Dear Jonathan Swift, Over the years I have often thought of writing to you. I do hope you’ll forgive me, though of course you won’t — you’re known more for your judgement than for mercy and not all for your equanimity, never mind for suffering fools gladly, so I fully expect a vicious tongue-lashing in response. Anyway, Jonathan, if I may, Dean—Gulliver, Isaac Bickerstaff, the Drapier — I’m not quite sure how to address you, to be honest, you assumed so many names and masks and disguises. Goo...